happy tears > sad tears

It's become frighteningly apparent recently that the only thing I know with any degree of certainty...is that I have absolutely no fucking idea what I'm doing. Which makes it very, very, very nice to know that there are some truly beautiful little people in my life capable of doing some truly beautiful little things. Namely, this little care package that arrived unannounced on my doorstep last Friday from the babe to end all babes that is Mary-Kate Zhoweveryouspellit. I'm getting teary again just typing this so I'll leave you with the reminder that not all heroes wear capes - sometimes heroes really do come in the form of polish pals with a penchant for brunch. MK you are a marvel, thank you for being the absolutely cracking pair of tits person that you are.

Some other things I've found to be helpful when life is going a bit tits up are: fresh flowers, Leonardo di Caprio, losing yourself in a good book, finding yourself halfway through a family size bar of dairymilk, baking the shit out of something sugary and wholly unkind to every part of your body other than your tastebuds (hello raspberry blondies, you little calorific wonder-food), and finally two words: retail therapy. 

Mini shout out to all the other beautiful little humans in my life who have at various points, in various ways, and in varying degrees of intoxication reminded me that it is completely and utterly okay not be okay, that whatever the question - gin is a pretty good answer, and that sometimes you just need a good old hearty cry (or if that's not working anymore - an impromptu solo spa day). 

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